


Harry's Decision

by Black_Dreamz



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Gen, Wandless!Harry, Wrong Boy Who Lived, powerful!Harry, twin!harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-12
Updated: 2012-11-29
Packaged: 2017-11-18 12:45:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/561202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black_Dreamz/pseuds/Black_Dreamz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On his Eleventh birthday Harry Potter discovers that he is a wizard but that isn't the only secret Hagrid reveals. Harry's family is also alive. An attempt at the 'Wrong Boy Who lived, Harry's family is Alive'. Cliche Premise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my attempt at the "Wrong boy who lived, Harry's family is alive" trying to be as canon as possible. This is a story I've been working on for a long time and the feedback I've gotten from it has been quite diverse so it's quite possible you might not like it :) 
> 
> The story stems off from the Philosopher's stone chapter 4. Hagrid has more to reveal than what he does in the books. A chunk has been ripped from the books to kick start the story. I have tweaked some of the dialogues so you'll have to go over them closely to see the changes but don't worry they're not that important. And also don't worry about the books dialogues being used; things will become original in a few paragraphs.
> 
> To those who've read the story on other websites, don't worry the new chapter is coming up this week, hurrah!

The giant took a gulp of tea and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Call me Hagrid," he said, "everyone does. An' like I told yeh, I'm Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts — yeh'll know all about Hogwarts, o' course.

"Er — no," said Harry.

Hagrid looked shocked.

"Sorry," Harry said quickly.

" _Sorry_?" barked Hagrid, turning to stare at the Dursleys, who shrank back into the shadows. "It's them as should be sorry! I knew yeh weren't gettin' yer letters but I never thought yeh wouldn't even know abou' Hogwarts, fer cryin' out loud! Did yeh never wonder where yer parents learned it all?"

"All what?" asked Harry.

"ALL WHAT?" Hagrid thundered.

"I know  _some_ things," he said. "I can, you know, do math and stuff."

But Hagrid simply waved his hand and said, "About  _our_ world, mean.  _Your_ world.  _My_ world.  _Yer parents' world_."

"What world?"

Hagrid looked as if he was about to explode.

"DURSLEY!" he boomed.

Hagrid stared wildly at Harry. "But yeh must know about yer mum and dad," he said. "I mean, they're  _famous_."

"What? My — my mum and dad weren't famous, were they?"

"Yeh don' know… yeh don' know…" Hagrid ran his fingers through his hair, fixing Harry with a bewildered stare.

"Yeh don' know what yeh  _are_?" he said finally.

Uncle Vernon suddenly found his voice.

"Stop!" he commanded. "Stop right there, sir! I forbid you to tell the boy anything!"

A braver man than Vernon Dursley would have quailed under the furious look Hagrid now gave him; when Hagrid spoke, his every syllable trembled with rage.

"You never told him? Never told him what was in the letter Dumbledore left fer him? Dursley you've kept it from him all these years?"

"Kept  _what_ from me?" said Harry eagerly.

"STOP! I FORBID YOU!" yelled Uncle Vernon in panic.

"Harry — yer a wizard."

There was silence inside the hut. Only the sea and the whistling wind could be heard.

"I'm a  _what_?" Harry was gobsmacked.

"We swore when we took him in we'd put a stop to that rubbish," said Uncle Vernon, "swore we'd stamp it out of him! Wizard indeed!"

"You  _knew_?" said Harry. "You  _knew_ I'm a — a wizard?"

"Knew!" shrieked Aunt Petunia suddenly. " _Knew_! Of course we knew! How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that — that  _school_ — and came home every vacation with her pockets full of frog spawn, turning teacups into rats. But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in the family!"

She stopped to draw a deep breath and then went ranting on. It seemed she had been wanting to say all this for years.

"Then she met that Potter at school and they left and got married and had you, and of course I knew you'd be just the same, just as strange, just as — as — _abnormal_ — and then, if you please, she went and nearly got herself blown up and we got landed with you!"

"Nearly blown herself up? You told me they died in a car crash"

"CAR CRASH!" roared Hagrid, jumping up so angrily that the Dursleys scuttled back to their corner. "How could a car crash kill Lily an' James Potter? It's an outrage! A scandal! Harry Potter not knowin' the story of his family when every kid in our world knows it!"

"But why? What happened?" Harry asked urgently.

The anger faded from Hagrid's face. He looked suddenly anxious.

"I never expected this," he said, in a low, worried voice. "I had no idea, when Dumbledore told me there might be trouble gettin' hold of yeh, how much yeh didn't know. Ah, Harry, I don' know if I'm the right person ter tell yeh — but someone's gotta — yeh can't go off ter Hogwarts not knowin'."

Harry gulped as Hagrid gestured at him to sit down.

"Harry.. yer parents are alive."

Harry heard Dudley gasp, a reaction that completely represented how he felt. Harry was too stunned to react at all.

"This is all some great big joke isn't it?' Harry whispered.

"No, No, Harry.." Hagrid stammered unsure of how to proceed next, "yeh have ter understand why yeh are here."

"This wizard, about twenty years ago now, started lookin' fer followers. Got 'em, too — some were afraid, some just wanted a bit o' his power, 'cause he was gettin' himself power, all right. Dark days, Harry. Didn't know who ter trust, didn't dare get friendly with strange wizards or witches… terrible things happened. He was takin' over. 'Course, some stood up to him — an' he killed 'em. Horribly. One o' the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of. Didn't dare try takin' the school, not jus' then, anyway.

"Now, yer mum an' dad were as good a witch an' wizard as I ever knew. Head boy an' girl at Hogwarts in their day! Suppose the myst'ry is why You-Know-Who never tried to get 'em on his side before… probably knew they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin' ter do with the Dark Side.

"Maybe he thought he could persuade 'em… maybe he just wanted 'em outta the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you was all living, on Halloween ten years ago. You was just a year old. He came ter yer house an' — an' —"

Harry leaned in closer as Hagrid blubbered, "He tried to kill yeh and yeh brother - James an' Lily were away on order business," Hagrid beamed at this part, 'But yeh and yeh brother survived. He couldn't do it."

Harry's mind reeled trying to take all the facts in. Hs mouth could only pronounce one word. "Brother-"

Hagrid face lit up even more. "Yeh have a family, Harry. A brother an' a sister.. Yeh'll love em."

Harry still couldn't believe what he was hearing. A brother and sister.. It had always been his dream to wake up one day and find that he had a family. A family, who would love him; take care of him; give him presents on Christmases and birthdays, and take him far away from the horrid Dursleys. It was all there in front of him but his dream was turning out to be a nightmare. All these years of wishing on the biggest, brightest stars in the night sky had paid off but to what use. A family, who didn't care if the Dursleys hated him and locked him inside the cupboard under the stairs, was worse than not having one.

"Now, you listen here, boy," Uncle Vernon snarled, "I accept there's something strange about you, probably nothing a good beating wouldn't have cured — and as for all this about your parents, well, they are weirdoes, no denying it. They left you over here when you were a baby, crazy the lot of them, preferring one child over another. We kept you, we fed you, we gave you shelter, that's more than what your lot did for you."

Harry looked back at his uncle morosely knowing full well how right he was.

His uncle continued his bitter speech ignoring the growl Hagrid gave, "Your lot left you here saying we were supposed to keep you till you reached adulthood. We signed a contract and all. That means you're staying under our roof and we don't want any abnormal pish posh happening over here, boy. No crackpot old fool is going to change that."

Hagrid seized his umbrella and whirled over his head.

"NEVER -" he thundered, "- INSULT - ALBUS - DUMBLEDORE - IN - FRONT - OF - ME!"

Before he could do anything, Harry stood up and tried to shield the Dursleys.

"No, Hagrid!"

Hagrid brought down his umbrella looking confused.

"I don't want you to hurt my family."

Hagrid spoke up immediately, "But Harry, they ain't yeh family,"

"No, Hagrid, the Dursleys are the only family I've got."

"But, but what about your mum an' dad an' Daniel an' Rosie an' what 'bout Hogwarts." Hagrid spluttered.

"I'm not going to Hogwarts."

Hagrid exhaled a huge amount of air, utterly shocked by this declaration.

"But, but-"

"Please, Hagrid," Harry pleaded, unable to look at him.

Hagrid hunched over, as Uncle Vernon snickered, and walked out the hole in the wall.

* * *

Harry sighed as he looked over at his grey uniform. It still had the peculiar odor the dye had left behind. His aunt had given him his two sets of the home dyed uniform and told him they were all he was getting for the school year; any pleas to get some more would be totally ignored.

Aunt Petunia was always complaining about how he had a knack for messing his clothes up. She did have a point there because Harry couldn't really keep his clothes tidy and would often come back looking a right mess. His perpetual tormentors, Dudley and Piers, loved 'Harry Hunting'. It involved a lot of running, chasing, getting kicked on the tummy (only for Harry of course) and hiding in small, dusty corners. Between all of that, clean clothes were the last thing on his mind. The only days Harry would get away unmarked was when the gardener forgot to close his shed during break time. The little bit of space was the most perfect haven; although the smell of fertilizer on him did make Aunt Petunia feel like retching.

Today was September the first and both Smeltings and Stonewall High were opening up. Aunt Petunia had turned into a source of an embarrassing amount of tears seeing her grownup little Dudleykins going out all on his own without his mummy. They had had a little party last night for all of Dudley's friends as a little going away present. Harry had never been so glad to have his little closet. Though, Dudley's gang had tried to lure him out with promises of cakes and pastries, Harry knew better. Dudley had earlier spent the whole day promising him that by end of the party Harry would be much acquainted with the bottom of the toilet.

Uncle Vernon was busy loading Dudley's five suitcases into the car and putting off Dudley's requests for one more so that he could store some of the leftover cakes from the party.

"Now, now, son, Smeltings is a fine, fine school with a proud history and a great, big feast on the opening day. Wouldn't want to be too full for Mrs. Sandhurst's special turkey and bacon now would you." Uncle Vernon seemed to have zoned out thinking about the 'great, big, feast.'

Harry snickered at the look on his uncle's face. Dudley turned and glared at him but Harry ignored him as he tried to budge in his own tiny, battered suitcase next to Dudley's shiny, voluptuous, new ones. Uncle Vernon hemmed at his stupidity and told him to put it upfront on the seat. After realizing that it was either him or the suitcase, with Dudley taking over more space than an eleven year old boy should, Harry was forced sit on the suitcase.

"Dad, Dad, when are we getting to Smeltings?" Dudley whined impatiently after they had been on the road for ten minutes. Aunt Petunia smiled at her boy indulgently while Uncle Vernon fixed his rear view mirror yet again, glaring at Harry, daring him to do anything funny. Harry just shifted on his suitcase uncomfortably.

"We've got to drop  _him_  off first- it'll only take a few more minutes," Uncle Vernon tried to pacify Dudley who looked ready to throw a tantrum. He hit Harry on the shin just to prove how angry he was. Harry wanted to retaliate but Uncle Vernon beady eyes were still fixed on him.

As Uncle Vernon turned on a round about a huge, grey building started to come into view. It was an ominous looking structure with a large creaking, wrought iron gate. It was covered in ivy and the gargoyles on it looked very menacing indeed.

Harry gulped as Dudley whispered to him about ghosts and evil professors. A little group of cars was parked nearby which brought back some of the reality to Harry. At least he wouldn't be alone here.

"Now, get out, boy, stop waddling about."

Harry got out of the car with his bum feeling a little sore and pulled out his suitcase. As soon as he shut the door his uncle revved up his car.

"Have a good term," said Uncle Vernon shouted at him Harry turned and saw the Dursleys drive away. All three of them were laughing.

Harry felt his courage failing as he looked at the imposing building once again.

" _Harry — yer a wizard."_

Harry shook his head as the conversation from the shack began to echo in his head again.

" _Yeh have a family, Harry. A brother an' a sister.. Yeh'll love em."_

Harry would love them alright but he knew they wouldn't love him back. For ten years they had neglected him, forgotten that he had even existed; they were no worse than the Dursleys.

He had often thought what his mum and dad would look like. Did he have his mum's hair and his father's eyes; or his mother's nose and his father's knees?

Now, he didn't even want to know. He could be the spitting image of his parents but it wouldn't matter. All he saw were shadowy images in his mind all laughing maliciously at poor, poor, Harry.

"Excuse me," Harry looked up at the voice speaking to him. It was a man with dark, very causally tousled hair and sharp grey eyes, "Don't you want to join the other students?"

"Um, sorry, sir-" Harry stuttered, nearly tripping over his suitcase, as he pulled it along hastily.

The man smiled back. He had a very reassuring smile that instantly made Harry feel at ease.

"Don't worry, young lad, all will be well," With this cryptic sentence the man nodded at him and swiftly made way through the crowd of fumbling, cheerless students.

Harry just shrugged his shoulders at the retreating back of the man. He was so accustomed to odd unexplained things happening to him that random, mysterious teachers meant nothing alarming.

* * *

Inside, he was met with a fierce looking Irish lady who held up a roll call list. Each student would go up to her, get their names ticked and then receive their dormitory information. Harry had received 07SB as his class id. Harry shuffled along with other scared looking students towards the given direction of the dormitories.

"And dinner will be served at Seven- Any later and no meal for you laddies." The lady shrieked after them.

His dorm was clean, a little drab, but clean. Harry mourned the loss of his privacy as he stared at the other boys who were busy unpacking. Their beds were metal, rickety, little structures. They were covered in white, clinical sheets that made the dorms look like a hospital ward rather than a dorm. A massive fireplace was the focal feature of this long room but sadly no fire seemed to have blazed in it for a very long time.

Harry sat down still feeling a little lost, unsure whether his luck with making friends had improved with the change in schools. All his previous well wishers had been forced away by Dudley but since Dudley wasn't here things could only change for the better.

With a smile at this positive thought Harry surveyed the room. His eyes landed on a boy who was busy trying to put up a football poster behind his bed. It was colourful and to Harry eye's utterly wonderful in this grim, dark room. The boy caught his eye and smiled back.

Leaving his poster half hung he held out his hand to Harry.

"Hullo, the name's Jeremy."

Harry took his hand, "Harry."

* * *

Dinner was a quietly chaotic affair. No one was willing to make much noise under the stern eyes of the headmistress Mrs. Puddlefut. She was plump woman with a sharp line for a mouth. Even a single squeak brought her tack sharp eyes upon them. All the students including the staff were sitting on one long table. As headmistress she was sitting at the head of the table. The position also had the best vantage point which enabled her to keep a strict eye on the students.

Even with her frosty presence the students were clearly not willing to let got of their fun. Harry's eye nearly got poked with a flying drumstick as the headmistress leaned in to talk to someone on her right. The stern Irish woman he had met earlier hemmed to express her disapproval but the meal in front of her soon got her complete and utter devotion.

As the meal was nearing a close the headmistress got up, clearing her throat. As you all know Ms. Grady, form teacher for the first form, has recently resigned from her post in search of more green pastures. It took only but a short search to find a suitable replacement for the first form teacher and a geometry master. I would like to introduce to you Mr. Sirius Black."

The whole table broke out in polite claping. The few mischievous ones decided to clap out of sync but a cross look soon straightened them out.

The man whom Harry had met at the school entrance turned out to be the new teacher. He gave a wide smile and tight bow. The headmistress also bestowed upon the school her first real smile in years which looked a bit like a grimace but beggars can't be choosers.

Harry too clapped as soon as he finished his last bit of pudding. It was then that Harry realized that the man was looking at him with a strange look in his eye. As soon as he sat down Jeremy nudged him also confused by what he had seen. Harry just shrugged as he was prone to do in situations like this.

* * *

His bed might be tad bit cooler then he would have liked but a lot more comfortable than his cupboard. He snuggled into the medicinal smelling sheets thinking about his day. With the exception of the strange teacher all had been well; normal, as the Durselys would call it.

The teacher had been a bit weird but not as weird some of the other stuff he's done. Talking to snakes; disappearing people on the streets, growing his hair back, that was weird, not strange teachers.

But then why was this affecting him more than the others. Maybe because the mystery of why for all the other occurrences had been neatly solved in his head.

" _Harry — yer a wizard."_

Harry shook his head in frustration. His random thoughts were beginning to annoy him. He wasn't a wizard. He couldn't do anything even remotely magically.

" _Knew_ _! Of course we knew! How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was?"_

Harry put a fist in his pillow. If he couldn't trust Aunt Petunia then who else could he trust? She was predictable, annoying and certainly didn't lie. Not about this that was so- abnormal. She could certainly lie about the secret ingredient in her pie to Ms. Prudie, the neighbour, and she could certainly lie to everyone about what a wild child he was but about this, never.

_I am not a wizard. My family is dead. It was killed in a car crash._

Soon Harry nodded off into an uneasy sleep full of cackling mad men and green, penetrating light.


	2. Chapter 2

Students at Stonewall High unanimously agreed that living over there was a huge downer. Their meal times were regulated and the meals themselves weren't all that appetizing; the school cook liked the grease pot immensely. The gardens were functional yet dreary with not even a pretty shrub to look at while the dorms were draughty and uncomfortable. It was September still and the cold was already seeping into their living quarters.

Classes weren't all bad. Mrs. Brown was clever and made history sound so much more fun while Ms. Delilah was a sweetheart who couldn't conceive the idea that a student could do anything wrong. Her English classes were a general hoot but people knew when to stop taking advantage of her since she was the best liked and the prettiest.

Stonewall High wasn't a co-education establishment but if it had been there would have been a substantial percentage declaring that the new teacher had completely beaten Ms. Delilah at the looks game. Since no girls would ever cross the threshold of their school this particular statement would never cross any of the male student's minds. Well, that's what they wanted you to think. Most students who came back from Geometry couldn't help but be cross with their unextraordinary hair.

Harry didn't have that class till Thursday but he had already heard much about the new teacher.

" _He has eyes on the back of his head." "He's so quiet sometimes that he can creep up behind you." "I swear he can read my mind,"_ and _"his hair, I don't know how he does it."_

Harry thought that it was all a bit of a laugh at how people were obsessing over the teacher trying not to look like they were. He had caught his dorm mate Andrew looking at himself in the mirror with feverish displeasure . It was fairly obvious his much hated mousey brown hair was getting a silent one to one talk and Harry decided it was unwise to disturb him.

Harry couldn't blame him for his vanity. He himself was suffering from it after all. He had taken one look at his elephant proportioned school uniform and balked at dressing in it. Jeremy had let out peals of laughter at the sight of it. The uniform still smelt and looked so out of place against his friend's worn, but proper standard sized ones, that he couldn't even think about wearing them.

Harry spent the next two days not wearing his uniform and had been reprimanded by every single teacher he had met in classes. Mr. Smith very nearly threw him out but Jeremy had a way with words and Mr. Smith was easily consoled.

But Harry did end up being sent to the headmistress. Her room was colder than a dragon's lair making Harry shiver. It was stuffy and very, very neat; not a paper out of place. The headmisteress sat in middle of her oversized armchair sipping on her midday tea when caught sight of Harry's lack of proper attire. She had given him a severe dressing down but Harry from all his years with the Dursleys had gotten used to them and didn't mind them one bit. At least he knew he was at fault here and wasn't being blamed unnecessarily.

She had than written a note and sent him down to his form teacher's office.

Harry still hadn't gotten over the weird feeling that he got looking at the man. He didn't look very threatening and when he smiled Harry too felt much at ease but there was that gut feeling that he couldn't ignore.

Harry took a deep breath as he knocked on the teacher's door.

* * *

The eleven year old shuffled under the intense weight of his teacher's attention. The man had just finished reading the note and was looking at him expressionlessly. Harry couldn't figure out if he was meant to start explaining himself or just stand there in the steely silence.

Finally the man broke it," So, young Harry, rebelling against these troublesome uniforms already."

Harry's eyes grew wide at the grin on the teacher's face. It was unexpected after seeing so many sour faces telling him off for rule breaking.

"No- no, s-sir, I wasn't-"

"You weren't what- not rule breaking or not rebelling," the teacher probed.

"I wasn't trying to do it deliberately," Harry looked down trying to figure out how to explain it without having to bring in the Dursleys.

"Well, if you have your uniform and you chose not to wear it than I would call that-"

"But, but-"

"But what, Harry-"

"It's not like I don't want to but-"

"-the uniform is too ugly and you couldn't be bothered to wear it," His teacher finished the sentence.

"But mine is uglier-"Harry blurted out.

"How so, does it have lace on the sleeves or does it turn polka dotted when you feel angry?"

Harry thought the man had lost his marbles and his face probably showed it because the man looked very amused.

"It's home made."

"Fine tailored clothing has never put anyone off wearing their uniforms."

Harry's shoulders sagged at the man's persistence.

"It doesn't really fit."

"But you uncle works at Grunnings, doesn't he? Surely he can afford to give you something that fits."

"O- Of course," Harry stuttered though he was much confused about why the teacher knew so much about him, "why wouldn't he. My Uncle and Aunt are the only family I've got, Mr Black."

The teacher looked away with a sigh.

"Bring your uniform to me, Harry," The man asked quietly, losing his carefree expression.

Harry nearly bolted from the room. He felt angry about blurting out stuff about his uniform; his family. Mr. Black probably thought he was a sentimental prat going on about 'the only family he's got'.

"Bloody hell," Harry smacked himself on the face as he raced towards his dorms. Second day at school and he was already in trouble. And to top it off he had very nearly declared his love for Dursleys in such a pitiful fashion. Mr. Black would probably say 'if you love your family so much why don't you go back to them forever.'

Uncle Vernon had mentioned some contract they had signed when they had gotten him. Apparently he was supposed to live with them until he turned eighteen. Harry dearly wished he could run away from them but he had nowhere to go to.

" _Yeh have a family, Harry. A brother an' a sister.. Yeh'll love em."_

And that was the biggest reason why Harry couldn't make a break for it. He wasn't afraid of living on his own. With the Dursleys he had virtually done that every day of his life. He was independent; he knew how to cook and he didn't need someone to look after him, but that niggling sense of fear in his head that  _they_  would catch up to him was the biggest deterrent. After all hadn't Hagrid found them on a shack on the middle of a rock in the sea?

_They_   were an abstract concept; they represented rejection and suffering. Every thing in his life that was unfair. They represented unpredictability of the worst order. With the Dursleys he knew where he stood. They hated him because he was abnormal and a freak who messed up their perfectly normal lives.

Why his _other_ family hated him he didn't know. Maybe he had been a horrible baby. Troublesome and too talkative as his Aunt Petunia would often call him. Maybe he had done something really wrong.

Harry swiftly took out his uniform as he reached his dorm and left before any questions could be asked. He walked back to the teacher's room and knocked again. The door opened and Harry saw that Mr. Black had opened it himself. The man took the bundle from Harry's arms and gave a distasteful look at the dratted smell.

"So this is what your uncle and aunt wanted you to wear?"

Harry nodded meekly.

"Well, this explains everything, doesn't it?"

Harry nodded again, unsurely.

"Your  _esteemed_  family makes you wear a pile of rags while their own son is fitted in the latest Smeltings fashions."

This was last straw and Harry really had to ask, "How do you know all this?"

This man gave a tight smile. 'Magic, young Harry, Magic."

"Wha-" Harry blurted as he suddenly took a step back feeling like his heart had exploded in his throat.

"Whoa, calm down there, kiddo. Every student has a file with most details on them. I make it my habit to know more about my students. You really didn't believe me did you," The man smiled widely at his student's stupidity.

Harry just gave a relieved giggle as his heart rate slowed down to normal.

"No, of course not. There is no such thing as magic."

* * *

After that night Jeremy and Terence thoroughly interrogated him abut the now infamous Mr. Black.

"He's alright, kind of odd but not too much."

Terrance, a boy skinnier than Harry looked at him in disbelief. "But they say he gives out lines like he's giving out candy. You should have been toast by now."

"Well, you can see no harm done."

Ali, a quiet boy who liked reading his books and preferred studying on his own, finally decided to stop eavesdropping and joined in the conversation, "But what about your uniform?"

"Um, he took it from me. Says he knows a great seamstress who could fix it up in a jiffy."

"But what are you going to do tomorrow. No one can sew that fast."

Harry frowned, "That's what I'm worried about."

* * *

The next day a paper wrapped parcel was sitting at the end of Harry's bed when he woke up. All the boys gather around to see what it was jostling and cajoling Harry into opening it front of them.

"Maybe your family sent you some candies," Walter always seemed a bit hungry.

"My family wouldn't send me tissue paper even if they were forced to," Harry replied as he was unpacking the brown packaging. Walter wandered away sadly. He didn't find the school's menu satisfying at all.

Inside the parcel was a shiny, brand new uniform. It had smooth gleaming buttons and it was all freshly starched. The collective 'wow' bought Walter back to the group crowding Harry instantly. Inside there were also two pairs of sock and a pair of shoes. It was all pretty spiffy as Toby liked to say.

"Hang on," Terrance exclaimed, "these are brand spanking new, Mr. Black must be loaded."

"Yeah," All the boys were content to stare at the 'really new things' but Ali pointed at the time and the crowd soon dispersed off to get ready.

The headmistress had given Harry a rare nod approval at his attire and all the other teachers commented at how smart he looked and lamented his previous reluctance to wear his uniform.

Harry noticed something peculiar with it. No matter what angle he bent at or sat in his uniform didn't have one wrinkle out of place. Harry dismissed his futile thoughts thinking it was all due to the expensive material.

* * *

At break time Jeremy came back from his trip to the library with an armful of books.

"You haven't started studying have you?" Harry asked a bit perplexed.

"No, no, this is for the English assignment we've gotten. Writing that fantasy story means I get to have fun with my dragons. I had no idea this place had so many cool books on fantasy. I wouldn't have known if I hadn't bumped into Mr. Black on the way to the library. He pointed out this hidden little shelf to me."

"Told you he wasn't too bad."

Harry picked up one the insane titles Jeremy had brought with him.

'You'd better start too cause this needs submitting on Monday," The taller boy cautioned his friend. 

Harry nodded and pulled out some paper and pencils from his backpack. The poor thing was nearly falling apart but Harry didn't have anything else that could substitute.

Jeremy was instantly attracted by "King Arthur and the round table" and once he began reading there was nothing Harry could do to distract him. 

Harry went through half a dozen titles when the book  _ **"**_ _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_ " caught his eye. He flipped though it causally and found it full of all sorts of crazy dates and names. A whole chapter was dedicated to a goblin named Ulric the bashful who contrary to his name liked to expose himself to greek maidens. A Hag named clorinda had caused much grief in the earlier part of the century and people still would still scare their children into doing things using her name. A very powerful wizard named Grinde-something had quite successful annihilating his enemies but had been defeated by Dumbledore just days after taking over the ministry which was a life long dream.

This name made Harry drop the book.

"What?" Jeremy looked up, annoyed. Harry just shook his head trying to hide his sweaty face in his hair.

_"NEVER -INSULT - ALBUS - DUMBLEDORE - IN - FRONT - OF - ME!"_

Harry couldn't suddenly forget that name could he. Hagrid had been pretty loud so there was no denying it. As if by some perverse power forcing him Harry decided to read on. He skipped through some boring wars and ended up a sickeningly family name.

_**Potter** _

Harry's mantra from last night starting echoing in his head

_I am not a wizard. My family is dead. I am not a wizard. My family is dead. I am not a wizard. My family is dead._

Another sentence joined his frantic thoughts

_I am not a wizard. My family is dead. I am not a wizard. My family is dead. This book is fake. I am not a wizard._

The same force that caused Uncle Vernon to go really, really slow at car accidents made Harry read the paragraphs dedicated to the Potters.

"Daniel Potter- the boy who lived."

Harry was a bit confused at the title given to his- brother. Harry was living and breathing too but that clearly didn't make him special.

"The only known survivor of the killing curse and defeater of you know who."

Well, that explained it, a little. Obviously the killing curse was something that killed so surviving it must be huge. Harry figured that it must be like a gun. Not getting killed when shot in the head was huge business. Thinking about getting shot in the head reminded him of his own scar on the head. He had never thought about it but he'd obviously had it since forever. Maybe he had gotten it when his brother had been shot at.

The rest of the chapter contained mentions of the great things James and Lily Potter had been doing; fighting dark wizards, fighting for the rights for werewolves, (Harry leaned in so close that his nose touched the page. All his mind could think about werewolves was 'cool!'), and other saintly things.

Daniel Potter also had a sister and she too was great witch in the making. Harry noticed one thing very, very glaringly. Harry wasn't mentioned in it at all.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Harry's concentration for the remainder of the day was fleeting at best. Jeremy kept pestering him with 'bloody awesome' facts about King Arthur but mercifully remained perfectly oblivious to Harry's silence whose mind was whirling with thoughts about the mysterious book. 

It had such familiar names that were so pertinent to him that it couldn't be simple make belief. Harry's next thought was that this was some joke by someone who knew about him but he couldn't think of one person in the school who had a grudge against him or even knew anything about his family life. Even the amazing Mr. Black with his secret little files couldn't know the truth. He had seen Uncle Vernon fill out Stonewall High's forms himself and his Uncle had never really liked to even say the Potter name. The forms contained the names of his guardians and named his parents as deceased.

Harry's eyes widened; surely his parent's name was written in them. That was the first blank in most forms; father's name and mother's name. It didn't matter if your parents were dead or your mum had run away with the neighbour their names surely had to be written down. But then what about his siblings; they weren't public knowledge.

Harry felt relieved as his mind found another block in his theory. He really didn't want to start suspecting people in the school. He was already too jumpy as it was.

But the book was still a grating reminder that everything was not okay. This book had either been planted or was an accidental find. Harry had come to believe that accidents were rarely what they seemed. So either the book had been there all along or  _they_  were onto him.

Harry stood up in shock. The wizards could already be here, looking for him. But why would they want him, Harry's mind taunted. They had been ignoring him for so long then why would they want to contact him now. Surely they didn't want him to attend their school.

"Mr. Potter, do we have something to say?" Mr. Black had his eyebrow raised at his peculiar behaviour.

"No, no, sir," Harry sat down, his face now warm because every single person in his class was looking at him as if he had grown another head.

Professor Black seemed to dismiss his strangeness and began to talk about angle bisectors.

Unlike Harry all the class was sitting up straight and paying attention. Mr. Black was not a man to fool around with. He had already caught Andrew staring at his own refection in his pencil case and embarrassed him enough to never want to look in the mirror again. In their opinion Harry was a lucky idiot who had gotten away too lightly.

As soon as the class ended Harry was roused by a smirking Jeremy, "Come on, Harry, time to kill the daydream."

Harry looked up a bit taken aback that time had passed this quickly and told Jeremy that he needed to talk to the professor before leaving. Jeremy laid a heavy hand on his friend's shoulder and left him to deal with the slightly eccentric Mr. Black.

The teacher was clearing up the black board when he realized the class wasn't completely empty yet.

"Have you come to ask about class? You seemed a little lost there."

"No, sir," Harry answered bashfully, embarrassed by his woolly behaviour, "I wanted to thank you for this uniform. You didn't have to buy me anything new, Sir."

"Thank me? Whatever for? This isn't new. It's the same uniform you bought with you though it doesn't reek quite as much."

Harry spoke quickly in disbelief, "But this can't be the same-"

"Can't it?" Black leaned in closer and traced a finger on Harry's button,"Look closely at the shirt. What do you see?"

And Harry did just that and to his surprise, underneath the gleam of his uniform, he could detect the lines of Dudley's old crystal maze shirt that Aunt Petunia had seen fit to dye.

"But- But-"

"Sometimes, Harry, people only see what the want to see."

* * *

Harry's eyes were still glued to his shirt while he was sitting in the library with Ali, Terence and Jeremy. Each was scribbling away on their own English assignments trying to be as creative as possible so they could have Ms. Delilah's special blueberry pastries. The winner of each creative writing assignment usually got to keep a whole basket full of them. With mushy soups and greasy fried chicken or fish the menu hardly had anything to look forward to so this was a veritable treat.

Harry's shirt was still bindingly white and bore no remnants of the lines that had been so visible in Mr. Black's class. Harry was beginning to feel he was going to lose it very, very soon. Either his mind was playing tricks on him or maybe the light was just falling on different angles.

"A kingdom for a horse!" Terence proclaimed loudly causing their librarian to 'shush' them.

"Feeling okay, or have you caught whatever Harry's been sick from," Ali asked with barely contained impatience. 

"'M not sick," The dark haired boy pouted.

"Says the man who's been acing like a lunatic since break ended."

Harry rolled his eyes and tried to put something down on paper but ironically enough, considering how outlandishly his mind was behaving, Harry had nothing remarkable to write. Jeremy was still teasing Terence but Harry soon lost tack of their conversation. He tried really hard to think about some good topic but all his mind could conjure up was wizards and witches and even thinking about them made his head hurt.

His mind sneakily suggested this would've been much easier to write about if he'd gone to  _their_ special school. Harry humphed thinking that going to another school just so he could write about them was just too much trouble.

Could they really turn teacups into rats? Aunt Petunia certainly seemed to think so. And did they really eat eyes of newts and turn into bats in the middle of the night. Harry asked Jeremy about his opinion.

"No, silly, that's vampires. Wizards and witches ride broomsticks in the middle of the night. They're also supposed to be very, very ugly; hideous to look at."

Terence nodded, looking up from his own small paragraph about giants, "Witch's keep black cats as their familiars and curse anyone who comes their way."

"Curse someone, like a killing curse," Harry asked quietly, the word ringing in his head.

"I'm sure they have that too, but I think most witches like to curse someone with boils full of pus," Terence replied, grinning manically.

Ali rolled his eyes, "Do you guys seriously believe in all this stuff."

"Sure, me mama told me that there was once a hag who lived in our village. She cursed the crops and was burnt to the stake by the villagers. It was long time back but it doesn't mean it isn't true."

"Poor woman," Ali muttered.

"And where do they learn all this cursing and stuff," Harry was now feeling terribly curious.

"They're born with it I suppose. Can you imagine a school for witches and wizards?"

Harry forced a laugh at this.

Harry decided he needed to see the shelf where Jeremy had gotten the book. Maybe there were other books in there which could help him. After poking and prodding Jeremy, who was very intently shading in the dragon doodle he was making, Harry found the shelf's location.

"It's right at the back, near the books about horticulture. The place looks like it hasn't been dusted for years."

Harry thanked him and immediately left for the direction Jeremy pointed to him.

It was a filthy corner which really did look terrible. Harry grimaced at the thick layer of cobwebs and dust. He leaned in closer to read the titles.

"The sword of whatever, Inferno, The Odyssey, Guilty Pleasure (Harry had to stop to stare at the graphic engraving on the spine of the book), Chronicles of whatever, The Ring trilogy, The Standard Book of Spells—"

Harry's heart took a nosedive in his ears.

" _The Standard Book of Spells Grade 1 by Miranda Goshawk_ , Hell," Harry whispered. With shaking hands he pulled it out and blew the dust. It looked like a normal book with a witch in a pointy hat standing with a stick in her hand. And all of a sudden the figure stared moving as fluidly as a video. The witch shook the stick in her hand and it began to glow. The witch then gave a bow as if she was performing for an audience.

Harry dropped the book in fright. It made a resounding thud against the floor. Not willing to take a chance in case the librarian appeared Harry quickly picked it up and walked towards the table his friends were sitting at.

They asked questions sensing that Harry looked scared and peaky but Harry's mouth was firmly shut. From fear or excitement Harry couldn't tell.

* * *

That night when Harry was convinced everyone was asleep he pulled out his trusty old torch and began examining the book. The witch on the cover looked displeased but Harry ignored her for the contents inside. The first spell in the book was called  _Alohomora._

"Alo-Alo-homra" Harry pronounced, utterly mangling the pronunciation. Nothing happened and Harry wasn't expecting anything either. He was pretty sure he couldn't do any kind of magic. Besides it seemed that to do magic he needed a wand. The first page of the book had been dedicated to wand movements. A little footnote had explained why a wand was necessary.

Harry went over the theory a few times trying to understand how something locked could be opened by waving a stick around but nothing seemed to explain that.

Harry was even more puzzled by the appearance of this second book. The shelf he'd gotten it from was so filthy that here wasn't a chance someone had placed it recently.

Maybe  _that_  lot (Harry shuddered as he realized how much he sounded like his uncle) liked to leave their books in non magical places so unsuspecting little boys and girls could be entrapped by their spells.

* * *

Time passed and September turned to October. Walter had ended up winning the basket of goodies in English class. Apparently his need to have them turned him into a literary genius. Harry had eventually chosen werewolves for a subject and turned in a solid B+ performance.

Harry still looked at those books occasionally trying to figure out the hocus pocus in them. He knew most of those spells by now. They never did anything but Harry liked the feeling they left in his mouth.

One Saturday Harry was woken up by a very excited Jeremy. "Wake up, Harry, wake up."

Harry groggily wore his glasses and saw his dorm was buzzing with activity with his dorm mates rushing about like loonies.

"They're taking us to the village. I've heard it isn't much. Not a lot to do for fun but its great place to stock up on practical stuff like socks or mittens or something for mums. At least we're going to get out of this stuffy place."

Harry welcomed the little field trip. Studies were getting substantially harder and took most of his time. There was nothing to do outside because the gardens were now little more than mud fields. Playing football in them meant getting wet and cold and not to mention dirty. Hot water was scarce and the weather chilly.

They all gathered in the school's rickety buses and left for the village. It was a quiet, sleepy village with few cars and some small shops. The arrival of the school children meant total chaos. The local pastry baker both dreaded and welcomed the children's day out. He would earn what he usually made in two weeks but his shop would be so muddy by the end of the day that it would take ages to clean up.

Harry and his mates stood outside the staring at the nice, fruity pastries and tarts.

"Isn't that a gorgeous piece of art," Walter pointed at a strawberry cheese cake.

Everyone nodded. "How much is it for," Andrew piped.

"Four quid. I'll be bankrupt if I bought that." Water moaned.

"Let's all put a share in and then we could divide it amongst ourselves," Ali advised sensibly.

"I don't exactly have any money at all," Harry answered with a strained voice.

"Aww, Harry, it doesn't mater, we'll save you a piece."

"No, guys, you bought it, you earned it."

Embarrassed, Harry, on the pretext of browsing some more of the shops, decided to take a stroll. It had been ages since Harry had found some free time alone. He cherished it dearly though the company of his friends was never unwanted.

As he walked into a grove of shady trees the misty path started to become mistier. It was already a grey day and Harry could bet a million pounds it was going to rain bucket loads that night. Harry put his hands in the pockets of his threadbare hoodie to warm them up. With a meandering gait he wandered in further, lost in his thoughts, unaware that the population around him now strictly constituted of cows.

Harry came to a halt when he came up to a crossway. The fog had become so intense Harry couldn't see anything from the way he had just come.

As soon as Harry started to blindly stumble in the way backwards he heard footsteps approaching him.

"Hello," Harry asked tentatively his heart thudding against his chest.

"Hello," Harry asked again louder his voice carrying the fear he felt.

' _Petrificus Totalus is a spell that freezes or petrifies the body of the victim, making it incapable of moving, except for the eyes and the breathing.'_

Harry wanted to smack himself. His mind was racing along with his heart trying to think of every single way of protecting himself; out of the moves from karate kid that Ali liked to show off once in a while and his Harry hunting day's survival techniques Harry could only remember stuff from that  _stupid_  book.

As the steps grew louder a dark form appeared on his left. It continued to become darker as it grew closer and Harry was stunned on the spot. Harry was quite brave for an eleven year old but even eleven year olds have limits.

"Petrificus Totalus" Harry roared, though the effect was quite lost as his voice cracked in the middle.

A white light rushed from his hand and hit the figure just as it became clearer.

The light hit this person but the person seemed to brush it aside.

"Hallo lad. Travelled a bit too far I see."

It turned out the looming threat was an old man with a really long, long beard. He was wearing an odd suit which was slightly shimmering and a bit purple. Harry's aunt had always warned him against talking to strangers, especially people who looked a bit odd but anyone his aunt hated Harry was determined to like.

"I'm sorry, did I scare you there, my hearing isn't what it used to be. I thought I heard something but couldn't figure out what."

The man was really old so Harry could understand him having hearing disabilities.

Harry giggled nervously, "That's okay. I understand."

The man smiled back and it was a kind smile that made Harry at ease instantly. He berated himself for getting this upset so easily.

"Here from that local comprehensive are you, let me take you back to your school mates who are no doubt quite worried."

Without waiting for Harry to agree the man started to walk in the direction Harry had arrived from.

"Enjoying your day out, hmm."

"Yes, sir," Harry had to take long steps just to keep up with the man. For an old fellow he was really sprightly. He was a confident and sure footed man. He wasn't like any other pensioner Harry had ever seen. His blue eyes were sharp and intelligent which made him feel like the man could probably read his mind.

The man made other chit chat; asking about his school, his parents (he had been so nicely apologetic about his dead parents), his interests. Harry wasn't the kind of person to reveal so much to a stranger so he kept his replies concise and polite. Harry tried to ask a few questions himself trying to mind his manners but he knew he was failing miserably. The man didn't seem to mind much.

As they got nearer the town square a figure came almost flying towards them.

"Harry Potter, where did you disappear off to?"

Mr. Black swooped in and Harry was almost certain he was going to be held at the shoulders and be shaken till his teeth rattled but his teacher seemed to have frozen in his spot.

"Sirius," the old man nodded acknowledging Harry's teacher.

"Albus, what are  _you_  doing here."

"Just having a walk, my friend."

"A walk, my-," Mr. Black looked down at Harry and controlled himself. He leaned in closer keeping his voice low. Harry pretended he wasn't trying to eavesdrop and moved away from them just to prove that.

"Do you realize how dangerous this is, Dumbledore?"

Harry stumbled a few steps back and swallowed dryly at this revelation.

 

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

Harry was too astounded to blink much less form coherent sentences and words. Mr. Black and Dumbledore exchanged a few more pleasantries and Mr. Black pulled Harry along towards the one remaining bus.

"See you, Harry," Dumbledore called out pleasantly.

Harry looked back and nodded at him dumbly.

Before they reached it Mr. Black kneeled down on one knee and looked Harry straight in his eye.

"Do you have any idea how worried I was," The hands on Harry's shoulders squeezed just that little bit tighter and the boy could sense that Mr. Black wanted to say more or do more but was restraining himself.

"Never do that again, okay?"

Harry nodded again, blankly. He really didn't trust his mouth. He was sure he could only do two things; either babble nonsensically or empty the contents of his tummy on Mr. Black's shoes.

"You better join your form mates; they were pretty frantic about you."

Harry's head was buzzing as he climbed up the bus steps. The driver looked at him nastily, muttering about arrogant little boys. His form mates were a great deal more positive; they whooped at the sight of him and Walter looked at him misty eyed as he thwacked him on the back. "I saved you a piece of cake. It's absolutely ace, man."

"Thank you. I didn’t realize how late it was getting."

Harry sat down next to Jeremy who was grinning at him, "Had a bit of an adventure, eh?"

Harry tiredly smiled back at him, "I'm completely buggered, Jerm, I think I want to sleep."

Jeremy's face morphed into worry. Harry didn't look too good. Instead of commenting Jeremy gave up his window seat to his friend so he could have an extra surface to lean on. Harry instantly curled up against the misty glass window and nodded off.

Seeing the look on Jeremy's face all his friends leaned forward so they could privately discuss whatever was on Jeremy's mind.

"There's something up with Harry."

"Tell me about it," Ali remarked, "He was acting really strange a month ago as well. He seems to have calmed down but now whatever was eating him away is back again."

"I wish we could do something about it," Water sighed morosely.                    

"So do we, mate, so do we."

* * *

Harry only woke up when he realized his friends were half dragging him up to their dorms. His arms were looped around Jeremy and Walter.

"Sorry Har, couldn't wait for you to wake up any longer. The bus driver git really did want to kill us for making him wait."

Harry felt a little dizzy and he slowly moaned. Instead of trying to get back on his feet, like his friends expected, Harry passed out.

"Oh, crap, now what?"

"Maybe we should take him to the matron; she might be able to help him!"

"Maybe!? We  _have_  to take him there. He might not be breathing or-" Ali took huge, gulping breaths and it looked like he was about to have a panic attack.

"Not you too," Terrence sobbed looking pasty and green.

"Calm down people, calm down-" Jeremy hissed. He pushed the door open and shuffled them through the quiet corridors. They had taken so long deciding their course of action that the rest of the school had apparently settled in back to their dorms or the common rooms.  

"What's going on over here, boys?" A familiar voice cut him off.

Mr. Black was standing at the edge of the grand staircase that was a main focal point of the entrance hall a left over relic from when the school had been converted from a run down manor. Concern etched his aristocratic features.

Walter beamed at him. He had never been so glad to see anyone in his life.

"Help us, sir, Harry fainted and Ali can't breathe," Walter blubbered. Mr. Black was instantly by their side. He took Harry by the waist and lifted him in his arms.

"You boys, get a hold of Ali, and bring him to my office."

Jeremy immediately pulled Ali's arm around his neck and motioned at Walter to help him. Terence still looked a panicked out of his wits but quickly followed his friends when he realized he was going to be left behind. They followed their teacher up the stairs who was bounding up them two at a time. Harry was still limp and pale in his arms.

He quickly kicked the office door open and walked in with Harry. He placed the pale boy on a leather sofa he had in one corner and opened a cabinet next to it. The boys followed in with a very peaky looking Ali who still having difficulty breathing.

Mr. Black pulled out a few bottles which clinked at his hurried actions. He uncorked a yellow one and gave it to Ali.

"Drink it, I promise you'll be much better."

Ali looked like he wanted to protest and examine the contents before touching the bottle but his laboured breath killed all his inhibitions. He closed his eyes and gulped it down. Ali's racing heart slowed down and his breathing became more comfortable. "Wow, this is brill! My mum would love to get her hands on this recipe.'

Mr. Black chuckled, his disposition far more relaxed than before. He had Harry sitting up as he tenderly slipped down the same liquid between Harry's lips.

"I'm afraid Mrs. Yazdani will be disappointed to know that this recipe is an old family secret only known to a few good potion makers."

"Potion makers?" Terrence asked.

"Mr. Black means chemists, right?" Jeremy smirked.

"Nope, boys, I mean potions makers, eye of newt and leeches, and the works."

All the boys excluding Harry, of course, guffawed at his tomfoolery.

* * *

Sirius was relieved when the boys decided to pack in for the night. They were anxious for their friend but Sirius had done the best he could to assure them that Harry wasn't in danger.

Upon reaching his office Sirius had performed a quick diagnostic spell (learnt courtesy of the inestimable Poppy) suggested that the boy was fine; just very exhausted. Sirius was puzzled by the extreme exhaustion though. He'd seen Harry play football plenty of times before the weather had turned on them and he knew the boy had a great deal of stamina. How could a simple walk down a village lane take out such energy from him?

Sirius took a worried look at his godson and left the office so he could inform the Mrs. Malloy about a student in his office. He only had to smile at her and she was agreeing wholeheartedly that the boy should be kept under surveillance the whole night. Sirius knew he was a charmer but this as ridiculous. No student was ever spending a night in a teacher's office in his days as a student. Sirius's imagination confronted him with a vision of a night in McGonagall's office. In spite of the concern clouding his head Sirius was highly amused.

Sirius hurried back to his office and saw that his godson was still asleep. It was a shame James couldn't see how much his son looked like him. James had spent most of his Hogwarts years trying to get messy hair and his son had achieved it without even trying. Daniel's head was a mop of brown hair that was wavy like his mother's. Daniel and Harry might be twins but they were fraternal and they looked as similar as they would have if they had been simply siblings instead of twins.

Sirius was nursing his special brand of fire whisky when the fire in the fireplace turned green.

The wizened old face of Albus Dumbledore peered out.

"Sirius Black, are you awake."

"Albus, how many times have I told you it isn't safe to be making contact with me like this; especially not in front of the muggles."

Dumbledore chuckled at the experience of being scolded by the infamous Sirius Black. Who would've thought a rabble-rouser like him would end up being sensible.

"I doubt you have your students around at this late hour."

Sirius looked back making sure Harry wasn't up yet.

"Yes, as a matter of fact I do have a student with me, Albus, and before you ask its Harry. He is apparently so worn-out that he hasn't woken up since you two took that walk."

Dumbledore frowned, pondering over this new situation.

"You say his energy levels are down."

"Yes, almost by forty five percent but it isn't the levels that make him this exhausted. Any human up for a solid twelve hours can have that much energy lost. It's the time it took for him to lose it. Before that walk he was a happy, refreshed child and after it he could barely stay up."

Sirius looked at Albus accusatorily. Instead of looking abashed the headmaster grinned at him.

"I think I understand why."

Sirius leaned in closer and nodded at the man to continue.

"He tried to body bind me, my boy."

"What? Harry?" Sirius looked as agitated as he felt.

"Those books you've left for him were a stroke of genius. The boy has already examined them thoroughly."

"But- but he didn't have a wand."

"And that's precisely why he is that tired. He is just an eleven year old boy who has only recently mastered the control over his powers. Of course it drained him to release his magic like that. And add to the fact that his magic is a special case even in our world his power obviously overwhelmed him."

Sirius looked down at the empty glass and wished he had more fire whisky left in his cabinets. His mind was too stressed by the developments to process.

"There, there, Sirius, don't look so upset. I'm sure we'll find a way out of this. Now if you will excuse me Fawkes is beginning to get agitated. Phoenixes are rather finicky about their food. Good night."

"Good night," Sirius called out even though Dumbledore was already gone.

Sirius cursed his aching knees as he got up from the rug and looked back at Harry; looking over Harry now seemed to have turned into a habit.

Instead of the slumbering boy Sirius was faced with a wide eyed Harry staring at him as if he'd seen a ghost.

"Harry," Sirius whispered tentatively. He wasn't sure how much Harry had heard or how he was going to react.

Harry suddenly got up and it looked like he was going to bolt but he didn't move. He wasn't looking at Sirius in the eye but he was still in the room and that was all that mattered to Sirius.

"What did you hear?"

"Everything, at least I think. I didn't know fireplaces could do that."

"They don't, only the wizarding ones do."

Harry nodded tightly, his mouth a fine line. Harry obviously wanted to hear this from Sirius' mouth; the acceptance of the fact that he was a wizard. Sirius went back on his knees unable to stand up any longer.

"And the man you were talking to, He's the one who killed grinde-something, right?"

"Grindelwald, _"_ Sirius corrected _._

"Right, whatever," Harry looked around at the room trying to see things he might have missed before, something that could have given him a clue about Sirius' identity, "He wants you try and convince me to go back to your school."

"He isn't making me do anything; I've come here on my own initiative and Harry, it's your school too, your name's been written down for it since the day you were born."

"What if I don't want to learn magic, what if I want to be normal and have normal friends and do normal thing."

"But you are normal. Harry, magic is normal."

Harry turned away and paced up to the door.

"Please wait, I know you're angry and I know you want answers."

"I don't care anymore; I don't have anything to say and I don't want to have anything to do with you people," Sirius winced at Harry's bitter tone.

"Yes you do. I know you tried out the book I gave you."

"I knew I shouldn't have read that book, I knew it was queer, that I didn't just happen to stumble upon it, I knew I shouldn't have-" Harry's voice was trembling and his shoulders shaking.

"Harry-" Sirius got up and walked near him. His voice was a low rumble.

"Don't say my name, I don't even mean anything to you?" Harry faced Sirius, his eyes nothing more than slits.

"You mean everything in the world to me. I'm your Godfather, Harry."

Harry's eyes widened and for a second it seemed like his knees would give away. Sirius rushed forward to help stabilize Harry but the boy had his hand on the door knob and was out of the room before he could blink.

* * *

Harry ran as fast as he could. He nearly tripped over his undone shoelaces but that didn't stop him. He was out of breath when he got to his dorm. He wheezed as he clutched his knees in an effort to quieten himself down.

All the boys in his dorm were asleep. Harry silently got to his bed; threw off his shoes and pulled his sheets over himself.

The room was much colder than Mr. Black's,  _your godfather's_  Harry's mind shrieked, office. Harry shivered and he wasn't sure he was shivering from the cold. Harry had never wanted to cry this badly in all his life. His face was scrunched up and the knot at the base of his throat was tightening but he couldn't get a single tear out of his eye.

 


End file.
